


Cafe Culture

by verybadhedgehog



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Bickering, Crack, Humor, M/M, Oral Sex, Roleplay, blow job cafe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 00:51:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9266438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verybadhedgehog/pseuds/verybadhedgehog
Summary: Hux invites Ren to his office for a role playing session centred around the concept of a blowjob cafe.





	

**Author's Note:**

> From "NSFW Headcanon Friday" - the concept of the "fellatio cafe" was raised (whereby customers pay 60 dollars for a cup of coffee and a blowjob right at their table).  
> I decided it ought to be done as role play with plenty of bickering. So the “fellatio cafe” is actually Hux’s desk and a standard First Order Navy mug of caf, and there is some disagreement as to who ought to be giving the BJ and who ought to be getting it.

Ren’s comm nudged him on his wrist.

_What does he want now?_

He peeled back his sleeve and checked the screen. 3 messages from General Hux.

 

Hux: Meet today 1415h in my office

Hux: For a run through of scenario as discussed.

Hux: I have a 45min window

 

He jabbed at the buttons on the comm and composed a message.

 

Ren: What meeting? Did not discuss meeting. Or scenario.

 

Hux: We discussed a number of scenarios. Related to republican decadence.

Hux: You described a certain curious form of cafe entertainment.

 

Ah. Yes. In an intimate discussion that had turned around the depravity and odd sexual practices of the decadent New Republic, Ren had brought up the concept of the “fellatio cafe” that existed in a rather louche district of Coruscant City. Hux had attempted to laugh disapprovingly at the idea, had then paused and combed his fingers at the hair at the nape of his neck, smirked briefly to himself (his micro expressions were so easy to read even without monitoring the very obvious flow of the Force around him) and said, “You’d like that.” To which he’d replied, “ _You_ would like that. Serving and being served.” And they'd both acknowledged that it might be a good idea to add the cafe scenario to a list of situations that could be acted out when time allowed.

 

Ren: Yes. I did.

Ren: 1415 your office.

Hux: I shall see you there.

 

He entered Hux’s private office and locked the door behind him. Hux turned in his desk chair to face him, an eyebrow raised. On his desk was a mug of caf, presumably Navy standard. It would have been too much to hope for the small elegant cups of fine aromatic Yavin 4 caf or tall glass vessels topped with indigo violet whipped cream that would have been served in the original cafe.

“Well then.”

He unlatched his helmet, removed it, and shook out his hair. Already hungry for it, he moved forward toward the desk.

He stood next to where Hux sat, waiting for the process to continue as foreseen.

Hux looked at him, mildly curious. “Aren’t you going to?”

“What?”

Hux indicated the floor. This was not as foreseen. “You think _I’m_ going to suck _you_? No.” He shook his head. “No no no.”

“What? Of course. I’m drinking my terribly expensive caf, and you come along and drop to your knees and provide the added service.”

“No, I come in, sit down, and you serve me.”

“You’ve just decided this, have you?”

Kylo looked around him. “Hux, this is _your_ office.”

“Yes. Point being?”

“So you are the proprietor of this establishment. Which would make _me_ the customer.”

“This is my office, but it doesn’t have to be my cafe.”

“It does, and I’m your customer.”

Hux smiled, smugly. “I’m already sitting in this chair. Which puts me in the position to be served. By you.”

“That can be changed.” Ren extended a hand towards Hux and flexed his fingers. The heels of the General’s boots lifted from the ground, and the seat of his arse lifted from the seat of his chair. He gripped the arm rests. 

“Ren! Stop this. Ren! Do _not_!” Hux’s hands traitorously let go of the arm rests, and he gave them a bewildered and accusing stare. He rose a little further.

“Careful,” Ren said. “Don’t kick your legs. Or you’ll knock over your caf.”

Hux glared at him.

“Straighten your legs. Then I can put you down.”

Hux did as suggested and allowed himself to be quite gracefully placed feet upon the floor, reaching for the back of his chair to steady himself.

Ren sat in the chair, swiped the two front wings of his surcoat away from his lap and tucked them neatly to each side. “I expect you’re ready to take my order now.”

Hux made an effort to recover himself, and came to attend upon his customer. He brushed at the front of his breeches, perhaps nervously. “What can I get you?” he asked, a little crisply.

“Oh, Hux, come on!”

“What?”

“Be more seductive, not so detached. ‘What can I get you’ – like a damn droid. No fun. Put some character in it.”

“Alright, alright.”

“And say ‘what can I get for you, _sir_.”

Hux sighed.

“I’m the customer!”

“Fine.”

Hux gathered himself for a second time. He licked his lips, and lowered his eyes. 

“What can I get for you, sir?” Much better. Quite charming.

“I’d like the house special,” Ren said, making it sound offhand but following it with a hot and penetrating look.

“Any preference for your drink?”

“Whatever you have will be fine. I mean, your choice. Surprise me.”

Hux lifted the mug of caf from the side of the desk and placed it directly in front of Ren. “The house blend,” he said.

“No, you have to _bring_ me the caf.”

“What?”

Ren sighed and looked up at Hux, then down at the mug of caf. “You have to _bring_ it, _from_ away, from somewhere else, we can imagine perhaps a kitchen, _to_ me.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Hux muttered to himself. “Do you want me to take the order again?”

“No, that part was quite acceptable.”

“So I’m going to pick up this mug, walk over there with it, and then bring it back like you’ve never seen it before?”

“Yes.”

Hux took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose, audibly. He picked up the mug, stood rod-straight for two seconds, marched to the corner of the room, and began counting under his breath.

Ren’s hand slid up his thigh and onto his crotch, and pressed against his hard length while he took sidelong glances at Hux. He did not know the target number at which Hux’s counting would stop. His hand strayed over the buttons of his pants and he succumbed to the darkness of temptation. He heard the scrape-slip of Hux’s boots as he pivoted from the corner and marched back to the desk. 

“That’s a bit presumptuous,” Hux commented, looking with sudden disapproval at Ren’s cock standing proud in his lap.

“Presumptuous. The entire premise of this… simulation is a blowjob cafe. I have ordered the ‘house special’. The process is already set in motion.”

“You aren’t supposed to get it out ready. I do that. It’s part of the service.”

“Oh. And you’d be gentle and respectful. With your elegant little hands. Of course. Excuse me, General,” and he tucked himself back in, and did most of the buttons back up.

“Don’t call me that, fucking hell.”

“Do forgive my rudeness,” and with that, Ren was back in character. He took a sip of the caf. It was, of course, First Order Navy Standard. The _house blend_. It was not good. He reached for Hux’s uniform, running the hem of Hux’s jacket between his thumb and forefinger. “I must say, this is a very pretty uniform you wear. Like silk.”

“It is… sir. A mixture of real and synthetic.” He stopped short of mentioning the carbon nano fibre and its technical properties. Ren was impressed at his restraint.

“It suits you.”

“Thank you.” Hux attempted a sweet smile. His awkwardness was quite delicious. To see him stumbling towards a correct performance was even more enjoyable than seeing him get there. 

“What’s your name, if I might ask?”

He looked away. “Armitage.”

“That’s very pretty. It suits you, too.”

“Thank you,” he said again, once more clearly trying to play the part. “Would you like me to start the… um, special service, or would you prefer to finish your drink?”

Kylo parted his thighs and adjusted his surcoat again. “You can start whenever you like.”

Hux dropped to his knees, and tucked his body under his own desk. The mighty brought low. He looked up at Ren, an unmistakable glaze of excitement about his eyes. He palmed at Ren’s crotch: the press of his hands bringing him to even fuller hardness. Excitement and anticipation flowed from him as he folded Ren’s tunic back from his lap and set about unfastening his trouser buttons. The leather of his gloves was soft as his hands caressed and exerted gentle teasing pressure. On his face was admiration, if not awe. Ren supposed a worker at a sex cafe would know to affect a positive regard for each new customer’s dick. And his was, to be quite honest, very much worthy of it.

Ren watched intently as Hux lowered his head and got to work. Pink silk soft lips kissed loosely over him from base to tip, then a tongue slipped between them to lap and lick and curl over the head. Those lips took him in and closed around him, firm and gripping; tongue working, insistent. Hux sucked and licked and worked with his hand. Ren found his teeth were digging into his bottom lip.

“You're good at this. Armitage. Of course, you get a lot of practice.”

Hux flexed his brows, huffed, and continued to suck. His mouth was wonderfully warm and wet and eager. His fingers teased over Ren’s balls with an exquisitely light touch, and Ren bit his lip harder. Hux’s brows gathered again, in concentration, and his lovely golden eyelashes flickered against a cheek that was hollow with sucking.

Ren glanced at Hux’s console and his comm, and thought of the supposedly terribly important work that got done here at this desk, in this chair. This was more the real thrill, more so than the fantasy of being served by a coffee shop sex worker in a not so luxurious district of Coruscant City. The proud General, kneeling in the hutch of his desk, sucking wetly on a cock, giving the very best service he could.

“Would you take off the gloves?”

Hux slipped off. His lips were pinker than when he had started. “It’s for hygiene,” he said, swallowing.

“I’d like to see your pretty hands. It would be intimate.” He stroked Hux’s face. “I would take off mine, too.”

“It’s against policy,” Hux said softly, before he took Kylo’s dick back into his mouth, sucking him down almost into his throat. 

Kylo moaned, coarse and breathy. With one hand on the side of Hux’s head, he guided Hux up and down, watching his dick slide in and out of Hux’s mouth. He loosened a strand of red-orange hair, making the General look a little undone. Lovely. He was so easy to read – his face, his fidgeting twitching thighs, the waves of arousal coming off him in the flow of the Force.

“Won't you touch yourself? I think you want to.”

Hux pulled off and looked up, embarrassed. “We’re not allowed. It’s very much against policy.” 

“You're the boss.” 

Ren watched him think for a couple of seconds. “I'm the boss, but it's a franchise operation. The franchise holder wouldn't like it.”

 “They won't know.“

“You might tell them. You seem like just the sort. A spy, reporting back to head office.”

“I’m not. You want to.”

Hux kissed and suckled at him some more, silk and velvet.

“You want to.”

“I want to.”

“So do it. You like sucking cock so much you can’t help yourself.”

A little noise came from him.

“Thirsty little piece, aren't you.”

There was something more desperate about the movements of Hux’s mouth now. A shine of saliva formed at the corners of his pretty mouth. His right hand moved to the junction of his legs. He found his way in, and worked on himself, making short moans that felt wonderful around Ren’s cock.

“Fuck. The way you look.” Ren raised his hand to his mouth and bit on the back of his glove. A little more of Hux’s hair had come loose from its waxy moorings. “Very close now. You’ll swallow it all, won’t you?” He was panting now.

Hux nodded an affirmation and made more wonderful, delicious noises. His left hand had slipped under Ren’s clothes and so he could feel the twitching and tensing of Ren’s muscles before he came.

Ren came with a low groan and watched Hux swallow and lick, then take a handkerchief from his pocket to dab his lips. He slumped back into the chair, breathing deep and hard. “Thank you,” he said.

Hux stood up, and rubbed his knees. “My pleasure,” he said, smoothing his hair with his hand. So much for hygiene, then, given where those hands had been.

“You didn’t finish,” Ren observed.

“No. But that’s not a problem. I enjoyed myself.”

“Sit there,” Ren said, patting the desk. 

Hux cleared a space for himself, moving datapad and stacks of flimsi aside, and tutting when he picked up the mug of caf. “Oh, Ren. You didn’t finish this. It’ll have gone cold now.”

“I didn’t find that I wanted it.”

Hux sat on his desk and Ren leaned forward, dug into Hux’s clothes and took out his lovely elegant cock, hard and pink-flushed. “Wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable in your uniform,” he said, and began to suck. He recalled having said he wasn’t going to do this. But one could change one’s mind.

Above him, Hux swilled out his mouth with cold First Order Navy caf.


End file.
